


In Which John Complains, Loudly, About Not Getting Laid

by squidgie



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Breaking the Fourth Wall, Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 05:30:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5816038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidgie/pseuds/squidgie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's slinking against something in Rodney's lab, and complains - to the writer - that he's not gotten laid in far too long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which John Complains, Loudly, About Not Getting Laid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Syble](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syble/gifts).



> You all know I *am* a loony, right? Also, for Syble, who encouraged this sort of thing.

John Sheppard had an edge about him that was so sharp, if anyone got to close, they would surely be cut.  It had been a part of him for over a month, and he was absolutely tired of it.  Each day that passed seemed to sharpen the edge, and absolutely no one had been safe from getting hurt.  Not even Rodney McKay, who John was sleeping with, though Rodney was the only person that could enter John's orbit and _not_ be affected.  
  
"So you see, Radek has been coming up with this new polymer," Rodney drones on just like he had for the last fifteen minutes, then turns to John.  "What?" he asks.  
  
Looking around the room, his gaze mostly resting on the ceiling, John mutters, "I've had enough of this shit..."  
  
"Well, hello to you too, Colonel McCranky Pants," Rodney says.  "See if I go down on you-"  
  
"Not you," John says, and then gives Rodney those eyes.  He slinks his hips against Rodney's desk, proving again to one and all that he wasn't wearing boxers underneath his BDUs.  " _That_ one," John says, pointing to the upper left side of the room.  
  
Looking around, Rodney figures out what John is talking about, but as is his custom, ignores it.  "Jesus," he says instead.  "Did Chaya give you a case of space clap that's suddenly gone to your brain?  Or," he adds, looking behind John's ear, "are you turning into a bug again?"  
  
Clipping Rodney over the ear, John says, "Hey... If I remember right, there was some good shit that came outta that-"  
  
"Yes," Rodney says, rolling his eyes.  "And might I remember, _you left your bug foreskin on my bedside table_."  Rodney can't help giving a hint of a shiver.  "I mean, your cock's pretty magnificent, but still.  _Bedside table_!"  
  
John continues to eye the spot on the ceiling until Rodney elbows him and says, "C'mon, John.  _Ignore him_."  
  
Shaking his head, John just says, "Sorry, buddy."  He gives Rodney's ass a squeeze, and then calls out, "Hey.  _Hey_!  You!  Asshole!"  
  
John and Rodney look up expectantly, Rodney fidgeting slightly but John standing defiantly, arms crossed over his chest.  
  
"I can stand here all day, you know," he adds.  
  
There's a general silence-  
  
"Silence my ass," John says.  "Hey, asshole.  I'm talking to _you_."  
  
_Squidgie looks around, noting the other passengers seated around him in the First Class cabin of his flight, and wonders if the voice can be heard-_  
  
"No, dipshit," John says.  "They can't hear us - we're in your head."  
  
_Sighing, Squidgie thanks the gods that he's not going_ too _crazy-_  
  
"Yeah, your mental stability.  That's a laugh," Rodney adds.  When John pokes him in the side, he says, "What?  You're not the only one that can talk to him.  
  
_Come on guys...  I was just writing-_  
  
"No!" John balks, cutting the writer off.  "What the hell is wrong with you anyway?"  
  
_Squidgie points to himself and looks around sheepishly.  "Me?"_  
  
"Yes, you," John replies.  "I mean come on," he says, cupping Rodney's rounded butt, adding, "just look at this ass.  I mean, you've seen it, right?"  
  
_"Of course...  I mean, not as much in SGA - but-"_  
  
"Yeah, yeah-" John replies.  "Wait.  What the fuck was that?"  
  
_"What was...  Hold on - did you experience that, too?"_  
  
Nodding, John says, "Yeah.  We were having a perfectly nice discussion about Rodney's ass, and suddenly the screen goes blank for like ten minutes.  What, did you have to go sneak off to the lav for some 'personal time'?"  
  
_"Christ, Sheppard...  No!  I just had to take a break because they served breakfast."_  
  
"So we get to talking about Rodney's ass, giving me another episode of John Sheppard's epic adventures with blueballs, just so you can eat breakfast?"  
  
"Hey, I'm getting kinda hungry," Rodney adds in with an elbow to John's midsection.  
  
"No!" John interjects a bit harshly.  He then gives Rodney an apologetic soft look, then leans in for a quick kiss.  "I mean, yeah, we can go get something in a bit.  But first, this _idiot_ needs to write us a fucking sex scene!" he says pointing to the ceiling.  "I mean, he hasn't written us doing anything _fun_ since, like, nine months ago."  
  
_Squidgie doesn't think it's been quite that long-_  
  
"Go check your AO3 feed, dipshit," John replies defiantly.  
  
_Going back, Squidgie finds that indeed it has been since May that he wrote an explicit sex scene between the boys.  But looking at something later on, he makes the excuse, "Yeah, but back in October, I at least_ alluded _to it!"_  
  
"Alluding doesn’t empty my balls everywhere," John replies.  "Sex scene.  _Now_!" __  
  
Rodney straightens up just a hair, a smile crossing his face.  "I'm in favor of that," he says, reaching over and grabbing John's cock, John instantly grinding against Rodney's palm.  "But speaking of favors..."  
  
"What?" John asks.  
  
_"Sure, Rodney."_  
  
Suddenly Rodney moves his notes and everything to the side, he and John stripping out of their clothes as fast as they can.  Rodney pushes John against the desk, their erections pushing against each other as tongues wrestle.  John lets his fingers play with Rodney's ass, then they find their way to his nipples.  He squeezes each between his fingers, swallowing the moan that escapes Rodney's lips.  
  
"Up," Rodney demands, reaching into a desk drawer and bringing back a small container of lube that the writer made sure was in the desk before starting the fic.  "I want you on your back."  
  
John complies, arching his back against the cool surface of the desk (and flips off Squidgie for not warming up the surface first.  Squidgie just smiles, because he really did it in retaliation for John breaking the fourth wall and everything.) and suddenly Rodney's deft fingers are pushing at John's hole, liberally spreading the lube across John's hole as fingers stretch him gently.  
  
"Now, Rodney," John says.  So Rodney pulls John's legs up to his shoulders where they rest, then leans down and captures John's mouth again as the head of his cock pushes insistently against John's entrance, gasping as he's enveloped in the warmth.   
  
"Oh god," Rodney says.  He's slow at first, hips going back and forth hesitantly as he finds his rhythm, and leans up as John's head goes back, eyes shut as his ankles pull Rodney closer.  Each moment finds Rodney speeding up a little and John's strong calves pulling Rodney closer, Rodney's cock finding John's prostate over and over as John lowers his hands to his cock, timing his strokes with Rodney's.  
  
It isn't long before Rodney's face screws up, and John knows his orgasm is close.  He makes a few more strokes to catch up, breath catching as Rodney pushes against his prostate again and again.  They teeter on the edge, sweat glistening on their bodies as Rodney pushes once, twice, and throws his head back, giving himself over to orgasm and pumping his load deep in to John.  John cries out, his own orgasm overtaking his body as spurt after spurt of come flies from his cock, painting his stomach, matting in his chest hair, and dribbling off onto the table.  
  
"Fuck," John says with a sigh.  "It's about fucking time.  Thank you."  
  
Squidgie tips his head to the computer screen as Rodney pulls out, his breathing slowing down from erratic and going back to normal.  "Yeah," Rodney says with a glance to the ceiling.   
  
_"Sorry it couldn't be longer, boys, but my plane's starting to descend."_  
  
"Fuck if we care," John chuffs out with a laugh.  "We finally got laid."  He leans up, the muscles in his stomach tightening under the dark hair, and gives Rodney a kiss.  
  
_And with that, John and Rodney walk out of Rodney's lab - still naked - and head to the oversized shower in their quarters, as Squidgie tries to figure out a title for this odd monstrosity of a story, and the flight attendant comes by for the third time to tell him to put his laptop away, because he'll be in Orange County in fifteen minutes._


End file.
